


one step closer (the the edge)

by ambitioncutsusdown



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, jealous!Isaac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitioncutsusdown/pseuds/ambitioncutsusdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac growled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest, which earned him curious looks from the people on either side of him, but he didn't even notice. His boyfriend was seducing someone and being seduced himself, but he didn't even notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one step closer (the the edge)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simplystisaac (shaystilinski)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaystilinski/gifts).



> So I really don't have time to write fic, and the only way to deal with that is write fic, right? 
> 
> There was [this](http://simplystisaac.tumblr.com/post/58947249815/you-know-what-i-want-for-my-birthday-a-stisaac) prompt (which I saw just this morning, I swear) and something happened afterwards, and suddenly there was this? It was meant to be something drabble-ish, but now we are 3000 words further and... yeah. IDK what happened, really.
> 
> (unbeta'd and I didn't even reread it myself because I started writing it literally two hours ago, so all mistakes are mine and if you spot any, please let me know!)

Isaac should've expected it, really. All those times before, where Scott and Stiles were inseparable, where Allison eyed Stiles up and down, where Lydia gave him those little, fond smiles. Even those times where Danny rolled his eyes at him to hide his amused grin. He never gave those moments much thought at the time, but now, looking back on it, they were clear as day.

The first signs that people were actually interested in Stiles, liked him.

Stiles was attractive, and had a lot of friends, and was actually kind of flirt even though he didn't know it. That crooked smile could win over more people that he thought, and those eyes, fuck. Maybe it was good Stiles didn't understand how high he had jumped on the attractive-scale, otherwise this would've happened much sooner.

When Lydia suggested to go out, Isaac was a little bit hesitant, remembered the last time he'd done that, which hadn't been much of a success. But the rest of his friends were enthusiastic, which is how Isaac found himself sitting at the bar, sipping a drink (beer, thanks to Danny's fake ID. Not that it'd have any effect on him, but the thought was good) and waiting for Stiles to come back from the bathroom and join him again. He'd been bugging Isaac to come out and dance for the past twenty minutes, saying "but you danced with Jackson last time, of all people, Jackson," and "please Isaac, it's what boyfriends do." Maybe after his beer was finished, he would give in. It could be nice, feeling Stiles' body moving along with his, to the beat of too-fast-music, together with countless other people, sweaty and careless and free.

So that was when he glanced over his shoulder again, for the sixth time in four minutes, to check where Stiles was. It was easy enough to spot him, already on the dance floor with Scott and Ethan and Danny and Cora, laughing and smiling widely as he joined them. Apparently he'd given up on trying to get Isaac to dance with him, which made Isaac a little annoyed, but maybe Stiles had a point. He'd asked a few times already, Isaac had denied every time. He could just finish his beer and join him, and Stiles would be happy and it'd all be good.

That was until Scott bumped Stiles' hip, causing him to trip and flail his arms, trying to get a grip on something. Or - someone.

Someone who was blonde and smaller than Stiles and had a cute smile as Stiles apologized for grabbing a random girl to keep himself upright, stammering and stuttering and flushed a little, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards, which meant Stiles was making fun of himself, which was totally adorable and one heck of an ice breaker.

Isaac knew from personal experience.

He couldn't hear what the first said, the music was too loud for that, but Isaac could see her lips move and if he wasn't mistaken she'd just mouthed "I forgive you if you dance with me."

Stiles didn't even need to think about it - didn't even need to check up on Isaac before he pulled her closer, easily falling into the right rhythm.

And Isaac was furious. He didn't one to be one of those people, the kind that didn't trust their boyfriends, the kind that didn't want their partners to do things without them, but this... Stiles was literally grinding his hips along hers, his hands on her lower back, and he tipped his head back as he laughed at something she said.

Isaac growled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest, which earned him curious looks from the people on either side of him, but he didn't even notice. His boyfriend was seducing someone and being seduced himself, but he didn't even notice.

Slowly, Isaac got out of his seat, his jaw set and his hands in fists by his side, ready to pounce. Yellow was probably creeping in his vision, but he managed to stop his claws from coming out, his fangs from showing.

Her skirt was too short for Isaac’s liking, too much leg visible, too much leg too close to Stiles, who was wearing shorts. Too much chance of skin contact.

When the girl looked up at Stiles with a blinding smile, leaned closer and let her lips catch on Stiles’ jaw, Isaac had to interfere. He was behind Stiles in less than three seconds, crossing the dancefloor and shoving people with his shoulders, just in time to see Stiles pull his hands away and shake his head. “- do that. I’ve… my boyfriend… he’s at the bar, y’know.”

So Stiles really hadn’t checked up on him.

He splayed his fingers on Stiles’ hips, the pressure firm and heavy, glared at the girl over Stiles’ shoulder. He could feel the boy tense under his grip, the surprised look on his face as he turned his head to see, the sigh that escaped him as he saw Isaac. “Out,” he hissed at her, couldn’t care less about how unfriendly he sounded, how feral he probably looked. She needed to go, she needed to leave Stiles alone because Stiles was too nice and too attractive for his own good, his clumsiness always getting him in trouble, whether it be a we-nearly-died-situation or another girl’s arms.

Speaking of girl, she let her gaze travel over Isaac’s face, down to Stiles’ body where Isaac was still gripping his hips.

“Oh,” she said, a little flustered but trying to look unimpressed. “Alright then. But if you’re around some time and he’s not in the picture anymore, ask for Rachel.”

And with that, she left, her long hair dancing as she walked away, probably to hook up with some other guy.

Isaac felt Stiles lean back against him, back to chest. “My hero,” he drawled, but Isaac just tightened his fingers and growled again.

Without thinking about it, he snatched Stiles’ wrist and pulling him away, walking out of the club and dragging Stiles with him, nearly making him trip a few times because Stiles wasn’t as quick as him, Stiles couldn’t avoid people like he did, Stiles was probably still trying to catch up with was happening.

Once outside, he pulled Stiles further into the alley, away from the door where people were smoking and talking and making out and throwing up, away from the noise, away from the club until the music wouldn’t overpower them anymore.

He pressed Stiles into the wall, glaring at him, glaring some more at Stiles’ confused expression.

“Dude, what-“ he started, but Isaac cut him off by grabbing his shoulder in one hand and his chin in the other, making Stiles look up and meet his eye.

“Don’t do that ever again,” he bit out.

“What? Ta- talking to other people?”

He couldn’t tell if Stiles was genuinely still confused or if he was turning this into a game, some sort of mind cat-and-mouse, going back and forth until Stiles would give in or Isaac would give up.

“She was trying to make a move,” Isaac said, dangerous edge to his voice which reminded him of times long ago, when he was still trying to impress Derek, when he thought he could be a killer, someone people would be afraid of.

“It was dancing!” Stiles protested, but Isaac wouldn’t hear it anymore.

He crashed their mouths together harder than he probably should have, earning a split lip that would heal only minutes after, trying to invade Stiles’ mouth with too much tongue and teeth that clashed. Stiles whimpered into Isaac’s mouth, he could feel the boy tremble, but he didn’t reek of fear like Isaac worried he would. There was the low thrum of arousal that always came with Stiles, now rocketing with adrenaline and something else.

When Isaac broke the kiss, Stiles let his head fall back against the wall, his lips wet and beginning to bruise already, parted as he gulped down air. He tilted his head just a fraction more, but the movement indicated enough for Isaac.

Stiles was baring his throat.

Isaac ducked his head, attached his lips to Stiles’ neck, licking along his pulse where he could feel the blood rushing. He locked his lips over it, sucked lightly, causing Stiles to gasp and shiver.

He didn’t know how long he spent on Stiles neck, but when he finally pulled away, it was red everywhere, marks and hickeys forming under his tongue as he soothed them a little. He also didn’t know exactly when he’d started chanting “mine” into Stiles’ skin every few seconds, but when he looked up again, Stiles eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, and that was definitely arousal coming from him, the scent heavy as he reached Isaac’s nostrils.

“They can’t touch you like I do,” Isaac stated, making it sound like a fact, which, if he thought about it, it actually was.

When Stiles shook his head, Isaac rewarded him with a kiss, teasing his tongue along Stiles’, setting the pace and pulling back just when Stiles was catching up.

“That girl tonight,” Isaac muttered, letting out a gasp of his own when Stiles moved his hand to Isaac’s side, holding on to him as if he was afraid he might fall otherwise. “She thought she could have you. _She can’t_.”

Stiles nodded, pulling Isaac closer to him, whimpered softly as Isaac’s thigh brushed his crotch, catching on on what unmistakingly was an erection.

“Why not?” Isaac whispered, arching an eyebrow at Stiles.”

“’Cause m’yours,” the guy slurred, words blending together until they weren’t separate entities anymore, more like a long sound, one of those noises Stiles usually made when they fuck, when Isaac pushed into him so slowly he couldn’t find his words anymore, and everything became a cluster of syllables.

“Yeah, mine,” Isaac said and pushed his thigh forward, grinding into him, making Stiles moan.

If he knew him well enough (Isaac liked to think he did), Stiles would be inches away from begging, and once that started, it was only a matter of mere minutes before he started leaking, messing up his boxers, the scent so obvious everyone in the pack would smell it, even the humans if they came close enough.

The thought of someone else coming that close to Stiles, smelling him all over, was enough to make Isaac growl again, initiating another kiss that turned desperate, rough, needy, those little broken noises that Stiles made turning Isaac’s insides liquid, want and hunger flowing through him, adrenaline spiking his heartbeat and blurring his sight until nothing else existed, nothing else but this, Stiles, here.

They both moaned into the kiss, be it Stiles sounded a little more wrecked than Isaac did, a little more out of control, but Stiles had never been the one to care much about control anyway, jumping into things feet first without wondering if his head might catch up at one point or another.

“You’re mine, Stiles, and no one can ever have you. No one can ever lay a finger or you or they’ll have to do with me. They can look all they want, but who can make you look like this? Me, not them, never them. Because who do you belong with, Stiles? Not some random girl, not some boy who checks out your ass. _Me_.”

Maybe Isaac was bordering on plain creepy, he didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to care either as he saw the flush creeping onto Stiles’ face, making him glow red even despite the little light that surrounded them. Isaac could practically feel the heat coming off of him, making everything more real, more intense.

“Yours,” Stiles sighed, something that could almost be described as dreamy, as if being claimed by a werewolf in the middle of a dirty alley was something he always wanted.

Stiles would never fail to surprise him, Isaac thought as he could see the want in Stiles’ face, making him look eager, turning him younger and more mature at the same time because Stiles wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, but his eagerness made him vulnerable, his big eyes and shiny mouth and dark cheeks made him seem naïve.

“Mine,” Isaac groaned back, fingers tightening in Stiles’ shirt as he looked down on him, stared at him, kissed him again until he felt Stiles’ limbs giving in, no longer able to support him fully; until they were both breathless, gasping so loudly Isaac feared it would alarm the pack; until they were both too turned on to deny it any longer, hips canting up to see friction, hidden erection brushing against one another, making both of them moan.

Stiles looked up at him, silently asking, silently pleading and begging, because he _needed_ , and Stiles never did well with patience.

But Isaac wasn’t done with him yet, not ready to reward Stiles just yet. So he licked his lips, gave a particularly hard thrust forward, and muttered “blow me.”

Before he could even let go of Stiles to lower him to the ground, Stiles had already dropped to his knees, the thud as he reached the floor making Isaac wince because of how painful it sounded, but Stiles didn’t seem affected in the least.

His hands trembled as he reached to undo Isaac’s pants, but Isaac knows it was not from nerves or fear, it’s because Stiles was so turned on he could hardly concentrate on anything, keeping his mind from clouding over taking up most of his control.

Isaac hissed as his cock was finally free, no longer awkwardly pressed against his zipper, no longer strained until it would slowly turn painful. The sudden chill made shivers go up and down his spine, but it only took seconds before Stiles put his mouth to work, worrying his lips around the tip for a few moments, and then sucking him in.

By how sloppy it was, Isaac could tell Stiles wasn’t actually paying much attention, not bothering with finesse or technique, just eager to please and get Isaac off, to feel and taste and have, orgasm more important than easing.

If only Stiles was always like that, he thought absently, fingers tightening in Stiles’ hair to follow his movements, sometimes force him a little further, make his cock slide in deeper, make Stiles keep still a little longer.

“Shit, Stiles,” he moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “So good, yeah, _fuck_ , like that, doing fucking amazing,” babbled, unaware he was doing so, of how vocal he was slowly turning.

It’s not like Isaac kept quiet whenever they did things. It’s just that, when it came down to it, Stiles is the loudest of the two of them, always vocalizing exactly how he felt and what felt great and what he didn’t like that much, whereas Isaac was more the person of soft gasps and throaty keens.

He could feel himself getting closer sooner than he thought, everything more intense that it seemed before, making him fly high and pushing him towards the edge, and it was when he looked down just to meet Stiles’ eyes, his mouth obscenely stretched around Isaac’s dick and his expression one of pure bliss, that he came undone. Isaac moaned Stiles’ name and bucked his hips forward, coming down his boyfriend’s throat and trembling through it. His vision blackened, and when he bit his lip he noticed that there were fangs, and they were cutting his lip again. With the last bit of coherence he had left, he removed his hands from Stiles’ hair, just in case there might be claws as well and they might threaten to hurt Stiles.

When he finally came down from his high again, Stiles had already tucked him in again and clambered to his feet, breathing heavily, and his whimpers weren’t so much occasional noises anymore, as just one constant stream of sound, broken and desperate, his hips fucking up into thin air. He was leaning back against the wall, Isaac suspected it was the only thing keeping him still up, and when he zoned in on what Stiles was saying, he could make out “please,” and “Isaac,” and “I need.”

Swiftly, more steady than Isaac had ever thought was possible, he unzipped Stiles and tugged his underwear down, the waistband tucked underneath his balls, his dick free. When he wrapped his fingers around it, Isaac thought Stiles might come right then and there, but surprisingly he didn’t.

“ _Yesssss_ ,” he hissed, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Isaac hummed lowly, thumbing over Stiles’ slit, gathering precome to make his grip slicker, make it feel better for Stiles so it wouldn’t be too sensitive or too much. His strokes started out slow, but within two minutes he was moving his hand faster, urgent, jerking Stiles closer and closer to his climax.

“So beautiful like this, Stiles, letting me do this for you. Letting me take care of you. Feels good? Wanna come? Wanna come all over my hand, right now? Then come.”

It was as if Stiles has been waiting for that, because he hadn’t even finished his sentence or Stiles’ back arched, and wordless scream escaping him as he shot his load, making Isaac’s hand sticky with come as he worked Stiles through his orgasm, jerking until he was sure there was nothing left and Stiles had turned into a whimpering mess.

They stayed like that for long seconds, so long Isaac started to feel silly as Stiles caught his breath and Isaac was still holding his dick.

Using his other hand to get tissues from his pocket, he quickly cleaned up his hand first, then Stiles a little bit, and zipped him up again, looking up just in time to see Stiles opening his eyes and flashing him a lazy smile.

“Didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he muttered, amused and content.

Isaac blushed, rolled his eyes at him (secretly glad Stiles wasn’t mad at him for crossing an invisible line that might have been there), leaned in close enough so they could share a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, my tumblr is [here](http://ambitioncutsusdown.tumblr.com) and if you want to share stisaac and/or teen wolf emotions, you should come and talk to me!!!


End file.
